The Apathy That Has Made Us
by itsavolcano
Summary: "Thought maybe you'd want to discuss Rigsby's theory that you'd eventually get together with Lisbon. Remember that?" Patrick Jane is stagnating, but maybe-just maybe-he'll pull himself together long enough to tell Teresa Lisbon how he feels. A take on spoilers for the remainder of season 6.


A/N: I have nothing but my own debt.

I look forward to being completely Jossed by Heller and team on this take on the recent spoilers season 6.

**The Apathy That Has Made Us**

_And oh my heart, how can I face you now?  
When we both know how badly I have let you down  
And I am afraid of all that I've built, fading away_

_("I Have Made Mistakes"; The Oh Hellos)_

_"I was hoping it was love, you deserve happiness…"_

_("Days of Wine & Roses"; The Mentalist; 5x11)_

Patrick Jane was never one for goodbyes or parties, and he certainly was never one for _goodbye parties._ When he couldn't avoid a party—or when Lisbon cajoled him into attending—he always managed to slip out unnoticed as well-wishers gave loud toasts and sloshed drinks from cups held high. But his preference was to avoid such events altogether. During his days at the CBI, he would retreat to the musty attic and nap (some would say _sulk_). However, the FBI didn't have an attic—not one they'd give him access too, at least. Instead, Patrick Jane had to make due with hiding out in his Airstream, parked in the FBI parking lot. He'd left the lights off, keeping up the appearance he wasn't home, or he'd gone to bed early. Since he couldn't very well read in the dark or work on a Sudoku, Jane stretched out on the narrow sofa and studied the paneled ceiling.

His thoughts wandered, moving fluidly through all the moments and missed chances of the last twelve years that led to Lisbon leaving for her farewell dinner with Pike and team in tow. Jane had given her a quick but playful hug, pulling her up to his height and gently dropping her back down on her toes, telling her he'd catch up in a bit. The look in her eye told him she knew he was lying.—Maybe she'd been right all those months ago, maybe she _could_ tell when he was lying.

If that were the case, she'd know he was lying when he wished her the best with Marcus. He wasn't a complete jerk.—He want her happiness, wanted her smiling and full of life, wanted… To punch Marcus Pike in his chiseled jaw. He'd probably cut his hand open. Jane wished he'd never invited himself onto that art heist case. He'd been so smug and sure of himself, and what good had it done? Sure, he caught the dumbest trigger-happy art thieves the FBI ever encountered, but he'd also managed to lose Lisbon in the process. _Served him right._ She had stuck by him too often over the years, forgiving his transgressions, accepting his lies, rising above the times he'd knowingly hurt her. She deserved happiness, and he had given her no proof that he was a changed man, that he could provide for her.

Tomorrow was her last official day at the Austin field office—apparently it was tradition to spend the last day hung-over from the farewell party. Jane was thankful the hug he'd doled out quickly that evening wasn't the last time he'd see Lisbon, even if his stomach filled with lead at the prospect of watching her walk away again. Was this how she'd felt all those times he'd left her?—When he evaded arrest for two years, left her on the beach in Malibu, or when disappeared to Las Vegas for six months? And those were just the big ones—there had been countless times he'd ditched her during a case. Maybe he _was_ a jerk.

The sudden sound of a fist pounding on the door of his Airstream jostled him from his thoughts. Jane remained still, hopeful that if the trailer appeared empty, his visitor would take the hint. Judging by the ferocity of the second knock, however, that wasn't the case.

"I know you're in there, Jane." Cho's voice cut through the otherwise quiet parking lot, and by the sound of it, was ready for a fight. Scolding him for ditching the goodbye party didn't really seem his style, which meant he was probably there to… Ah, yes, Kimball Cho, lover of classic literature and biting remarks, was secretly a romantic and was forever loyal to Teresa Lisbon. He was probably there to tell Jane to shape up and get his ass back in line, to not make Lisbon feel guilty about her decision. Fine, Jane would humor him for a few minutes before sending him back on his way.

By the time Jane yanked the door open, Cho was sitting at the small bistro table on his makeshift patio. The security lights of the parking lot cast enough light that Jane could see a six-pack of beer in the middle of the table and a Big Gulp in Cho's hand. This was going to be worse than Jane anticipated. He swallowed a sigh and forced a lightness he didn't feel, bounding down the steps in two quick jumps.

"Cho! What brings you to my neck of the lot this fine evening?"

"I brought a six-pack. Thought you could use it."

"You don't drink." He joined Cho at the table, resting an elbow on the edge.

"But you do. It's tradition."

"And what tradition is that?" He had a hunch, but he wanted the other man to _say it_.

"To get drunk off your ass when your heart's been broken." And there it was.

"Putting aside the fact I'm surprised you would care—What makes you think my heart has been broken?"

"You just decided to avoid Lisbon's goodbye party and sulk because you're fine?" Cho pulled a bottle from the cardboard, cracked the top off, and handed it to Jane.

"I wasn't sulking, Kimball, I was… resting my eyes." He took a long pull from the bottle, welcoming the bitter nutty flavor hitting the back of his throat.

"Sure," Cho took a gulp of his soda. "Thought maybe you'd want to discuss Rigsby's theory that you'd eventually get together with Lisbon. Remember that?"

Jane's eyes narrowed as he took another swig of his beer.

"Agent Cho, are you trying to goad me into admitting something? Need I remind you, I am not Rigsby with a crush on Van Pelt?" He flinched, he was off his game this evening. Cho's statement had been leading and he'd jumped right on it.

"So you're saying you have something to admit." It wasn't really a question. He leaned back in the plastic chair, stretching his legs out, posturing. Jane had never really enjoyed being on the receiving end of one of Cho's interrogations. He looked cool and in-command. _The Iceman cometh._ Jane was suddenly very tired—emotionally, physically, all of it. He was tired of hiding.

"Why are you here, Cho? I appreciate the beer, but this sort of thing, this heart-to-heart, doesn't really seem you style."

"It isn't. But shutting yourself off from people who care about you is _exactly_ your style."

"What do you want me to do, Cho? Lisbon's made her decision. I know it might not always seem like it, but I want her to be happy."

"Is she, though?"

"She's got a great job lined up in a prime city and a gladiator for a boyfriend. What more could she want?" Jane really wished he could hate Pike.

"This whole time you've been back, have you actually _looked_ at her?"

"Yes." The last few months, it seemed like all he did was look at her. After two years apart, he couldn't take his eyes off her when she was near.

"And did you ever have a conversation?"

Jane wasn't sure what one thing had to do with the other, or what the other man was getting at.

"We talk all the time," He defended, purposefully obtuse.

"OK, be that way." Cho took a final long slug of his soda before standing. "I'm glad Lisbon's leaving. She deserves a full life, and you clearly can't give that to her."

"Exactly." Jane frowned, even though it was true, it still stung.

"—But you aren't even trying." Jane opened his mouth, but couldn't form a response before Cho continued on, "Look at you, you've been wearing the same suit for the last nine months. Not to mention those wool socks and that beard. You just traded in one costume for another."

"I'm _unfettered._" Jane gestured around. "I'm free."

"Are you really? Seems to me you're still pretty tied down to your past." Cho gave a nod to Jane's left hand and he stopped worrying the band with his thumb. "You're right, Lisbon could be happy in D.C. with Pike. But I also think she's under the impression she doesn't have any other option."

Cho tossed his empty cup into the steel can with a resounding thunk.

"I think before she rides off into the sunset with that gladiator, she has the right to know you give a damn."

"I'm a mess, Cho." Jane hadn't realized quite how much of a mess until the evening's psychoanalysis session.

"Yeah, well, no one's perfect. Just do something, and do it soon. After all that drama around Wayne and Grace, I can't take another five years of this." And with that, Cho drove off leaving Jane alone under the harsh glow of the security lights, with his thoughts in even more of a jumble than they were thirty minutes ago.

He cracked another beer.

xXx

Jane was almost certain knocking on Lisbon's door at 1AM was a horrible mistake. When she threw open the door and he nearly fell face-first into the foyer, he decided the horrible mistake was finishing four out of the six beers Cho had left.

"What the hell?" A deep crease formed in Lisbon's brow as he caught himself on the door frame. She glanced over his shoulder, to the cab at the curb. The driver gave a honk.

"Good evening, dear Lisbon." Jane motioned to the cab and the driver gave a honk. "That's Mike, good guy. Questionable taste in women, based on the stories I heard on the ride over, but hey—stones, glass houses, and all that. Speaking of Mike, is Pike here?"

"What? No." Her skin flushed a soft pink.

"In that case, can I send Mike on his way and come in?"

"Have you been _drinking_? –And why are you here?"

"Can I come in and I'll explain?" Without waiting for a response, Jane brushed by her and flopped on the sofa with eyes closed. Lisbon pursed her lips together and motioned for Mike the cab driver to go on his way.

"Explain." Lisbon slammed the door shut and Jane flinched.

"Wait." He held up one hand, a faint headache beginning to take hold. "Give me just a minute to, you know, gather my wits. I need to do this right."

"_Gather your wits_," she rolled her eyes.

"OK, you clearly want to say something scathing, I know. Have at it. Consider it a freebie—"

"Since your wits are apparently incapacitated?"

"Precisely," he smiled. He would miss this.

"Why did you show up at my house at 1AM, and why have you been drinking?"

"Cho."

"What about Cho?"

"Gave me a six-pack of beer. I had a few, had a four," he stuttered and frowned. That didn't sound right. "Do you have any tea? Preferably something strong?"

"Jane—"

"Please? I need to do this right." He was suddenly very serious, his eyes now open and pleading. "The beer was just Dutch courage to get me here and now I'm regretting it. Well, actually, the last two beers were Dutch courage. The first two, I was trying to get flat-out drunk."

"Why did you need Dutch courage, Jane?" Her voice was small and tentative, as if she were beginning to realize the reason he'd showed up at her house. "What do you need to do right?"

"Tea first, Teresa. Then all shall be revealed." Jane caught her hand as she moved past him. He ran his thumb along her wrist, felt her pulse give a jump. "Thank you."

As she put the kettle on, Jane blinked hard and focused on his surroundings. Not much of the house seemed to be packed up, but Lisbon wasn't officially moving to D.C. until next Wednesday. A few boxes were tucked against walls, garment bags were draped over furniture. A leather jacket was tossed over a box near the front door.

But it was a smaller box sitting on the coffee table next to an empty wine glass that caught his eye. The box was the sort of thing people might use to store bills or important legal documents, but Jane sensed that wasn't what Lisbon kept in this box. Maybe it was the tea cup drawn on the label, or maybe it was just intuition. Leaning up on an elbow, he nudged the lid from the box with one finger.

After one glance inside, he sobered immediately.

_His letters._ The box held all the letters he had sent her during his two years in exile. Each one appeared neatly folded but well-worn. She had kept them all—and judging by the creases, she had read them _often_. The corner of one letter was sticking up and Jane wondered if she had been reading it before he's shown up on her doorstep.

Not wanting to rip it, he gave a gentle tug and the letter fell open. _You being absent is the one thing that's made this new chapter strange and sad. _

Jane's heart dropped. He'd meant those words when he wrote them—would mean those words until the end. A life without Lisbon _was_ strange and sad; he wasn't sure he could do it again.

He found Lisbon standing at the kitchen counter, her back to him as she poured hot water into an old CBI mug. She gave a start as he took the kettle from her hand and sat it back on the stove.

"I find I don't need the tea anymore."

Lisbon spun around, watching him with a curious eye. It was a look he knew well.

"Would you care for wine, then? I also have a bottle of whiskey around here somewhere if you need the fortitude." Her words were meant to tease, to hedge away from what was clearly about to be a serious discussion.

"No, I have all the strength I need." Her eyes were wide with surprise and trepidation as she realized he was holding one of the letters in his hand. Something tugged at his heart. He loved her and before he left tonight, he needed her to know. "You kept them."

"Yes." Her voice was soft. "What did you expect me to do with them, Jane? They weren't going to self-destruct, or anything."

"I didn't expect you to keep them in a box on your coffee table."

"I didn't—they weren't on the coffee table. Not _here_ at least." Lisbon dumped the tea into the sink and quickly rinsed the mug. "Marcus was helping me pack earlier, after we left the party."

"Ah." Beginning to understand, Jane nodded and pushed aside a spark of hope.

"Marcus is a good guy—kind, thoughtful, and direct. He's exactly what I need." Lisbon turned back around, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "But, if he's exactly what I need, then why don't I want him?"

The hope that had been a spark moments before now bloomed fully, filling his chest.

"I didn't come here tonight to convince you to stay, Lisbon." He dropped the letter to the kitchen table. "I've taken so much from you over the years, I'm not going to the possibility of being happy from you, too. Even if it's without me."

She gave a quick nod, her chin held high. His lovely Lisbon was expecting a brush off—and wasn't that the Patrick Jane Special? To give her a tap on the shoulder and a smile whenever things became too emotional? He needed to fix that. She needed to know she could count on him, that she could trust him to be forthright from this moment on.

"I came here tonight because I needed you to know…" He inhaled deeply. This was even more difficult than he expected. He couldn't think about it too much, he needed to just get the words out and then sort through it after. He took another breath and the words rushed out on an exhale. "I love you. I need you to know I love you."

She stilled, her arms crossed over her chest. "I _do _know that, Jane."

Well, he hadn't expected _that._

"You made sure I knew you were alive and safe. Even ditching me on that beach all those years ago, was an act of love in your twisted brain." She gave a smile to soften the blow but something didn't feel right. "You always try to push people away, but I know you. It's because you care too much."

He didn't bother hiding his confusion. She had it all wrong. She thought he just loved her, like a cup of tea, a favorite book, a friend. She didn't realize the full scope of his feelings. No point in stopping now—

"No, Teresa, I'm _in love_ with you." She blushed and surprise flickered over her face. "And before you ask, this isn't a trick. I'm not trying to manipulate you into staying, or dumping Marcus. If that's what you want, then I support it—_because I love you_. If you want me to load up the U-Haul, or to walk you down the aisle and into the arms of another man, I'll do it. And I'll do it with a smile on my face, because I love you.—Because I'm _in _love with you."

Lisbon hadn't moved and gave no reaction, no doubt as shell-shocked as he'd ever seen her. But he continued on.

"Cho pointed out that I'm a bit of a mess. I spent ten years chasing my family's killer, and then I spent two years in an exile of my own making. I thought I was healing and changing, but now I see that while I'm not consumed by revenge anymore, I'm sort of… stagnating."

He should've written her a letter. It had been so easy to pour his thoughts down on paper, but she deserved more than the coward's way out. He took another deep breath, not waiting to lose his nerve.

"I came back because I wanted to be with you. My time in Venezuela was a sad and lonely time. I missed my family—you, Teresa. _You_ are my family. But when I got here, everything went pear-shaped with the deal, and I started to make assumptions about you." He leaned back against the kitchen table, suddenly feeling deflated. "I know this is going to sound absurd, but I thought I'd have a little more time to pull myself together. I wanted to be that man for you, the one who'd sweep you off your feet with a fancy dinner reservation, or tuck a flower in the desk drawer where you hide your purse. But I've just been too—"

"—Terrified." Lisbon whispered, finally finding her voice after his declaration. He gave a nod, his mouth pressed into a line.

"So, tonight I wanted you to know you have options. I can be a viable option, Teresa. I just need a little more time to sort my head out and be the man you deserve. But I _want_ to be that man. And if you can't wait any longer, then by all means, load up the U-Haul and move to D.C. Marry Pike and have 2.5 dogs and get a kid, and be extremely happy. I want that for you. But you deserve to hear me say that I love you and _know_ that I mean it."

Jane heard every second that ticked by as he waited for some reaction—a slap, a shout, an admonishment. _Anything_.

"God, you're such a jerk." The reprimand came out on a half-laugh, half-cry as she wiped at her eyes.

"Yes, but we knew that." He studied her, trying to gauge what she was about to say. And then Teresa Lisbon surprised him for the second time that evening.

"I'm not moving to D.C.—Don't look at me like that, I'd already made that decision before you came over. Marcus found that box of letters while he was helping me pack. They sort of spilled out, along with a couple of sea shells. He was confused when I started crying." She gave a mirthless laugh. "Then I told him I wasn't ready to leave Texas. He was understanding—actually that's not true. He didn't really get it, but he did say something about not being surprised. He wouldn't elaborate. So that's that." The box and leather jacket near the front door suddenly made sense. She was concise, but Jane sensed there was more to the story, that there was something she was leaving out. He would let her tell him in her own time, he didn't want to push her tonight.

"Hence the empty wine glass on the coffee table?"

"Yes, hence the empty wine glass."

Pulling himself up from the chair, Jane offered a hand to Lisbon. When she took it, he gently laced their fingers together and gave it a squeeze.

"I already spoke with Abbott. For some reason, he hadn't finalized my transfer paperwork. Which is kind of odd for a man so by-the-book." Lisbon turned her face to him.

"I had nothing to do with that."

"I believe you."

"Pike's an idiot."

"No, he's not," she rebuked.

"He didn't seem to put up much of a fight. Take it from an idiot who knows." He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "But I'm glad you're not moving."

"I thought you might be." She gave his hand a tug.

"Things will be different, Teresa."

"OK." She looked exhausted, no doubt worn out from the evening's emotional upheaval.

"You can trust me."

"I know." She gave a slight smile. "You have that serious look in your eye when you're plotting something, so I know you mean business."

"I do mean business." He paused. "Can I take you out tomorrow night?"

"Jane—"

"As a friend. I think you need a greasy burger and a strawberry milkshake. Perfect cure for a break-up."

Lisbon's laugh gave him hope. "That's the cure for a hangover."

"Is it? I've been off the dating scene for a while."

Her expression grew somber as she met his eyes.

"I'm going to need some time, Jane."

"You're in luck, dear Teresa—So do I." He pulled her to him. "Shall we take that time together?"

With a watery smile she nodded, and he rested his chin on her head.

"For starters, how about that cup of tea?"

Drawing her in tight, he pressed a kiss to her hair before turning to put the kettle back on.

The End.


End file.
